


Retreat

by disappointionist



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointionist/pseuds/disappointionist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>CONTAINS SPOILERS for Teen Wolf up to and including S03E22 De-Void</p><p>Chris finds himself cleaning Derek up for the second time in what must be just a few days. And he finds himself beginning to not mind at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Retreat

Chris helps Derek to the bathroom. Or, drags him rather, since Derek seems too out of it to walk properly. He is slumped with his arm around Chris shoulders and they are moving at an agonizingly slow pace. It leaves Chris with plenty of time to think. Like how he is doing this again. Why he is doing this again. His mind is filled with about a hundred questions and absolutely no answers. The closest he gets to an answer is the nagging feeling that he cares. He cares about Derek Hale.

”What are you doing, Argent?” Derek asks, and it's the second sentence he has spoken since he woke up (the first being I'm so sorry). His words are now muffled against Chris' skin, just as they finally make it into the bathroom. Chris sets him down on the toilet seat. He reaches for the tap on the bathtub.

”Getting you and me both cleaned up.” Chris tells him.

”What?” Derek frowns. ”Argent we don't have time for this.” He grumbles. Tries to get up but drops back down again.

”You're too weak anyway. And covered in black stuff.” Chris says, pulling off his own shirt and throwing it straight in the bin. He nods to Derek. ”Take off your shirt.” Derek looks sceptically at him. Chris wants to sigh and tell him that now is not the time to be a sassy bastard. He sighs. ”You've had no shirt on in my presence before Derek." He growls. "Now take. it. off.”

”Fine.” Derek says, pulling a face as he pulls the shirt over his head. He hands it to Chris. However, Chris notices the wound on his shoulder, and frowns. It doesn't look pretty, so he takes a step closer, but stops in hesitation.

”Can I?” He asks. Derek just nods. So he takes another step, reaching out for Derek's shoulder with careful fingers. His fingers make contact with the other man's skin. He exhales, and he feels almost disappointed that nothing happened. No flinch, no nothing. It's just skin. Soft and smooth. He keeps his fingertips away from the wound, but still feels around it. It's warmer there, as it should be, but he's not healing anywhere near the speed that one would expect from a werewolf.

”It's healing very slowly.” He observes, and Derek nods again. ”We're going to have to clean that too.”

”You do an awful lot of cleaning my wounds these days Argent.” Derek says, and he sounds almost amused now. Chris looks up, his touch still lingering on  Derek's shoulder. He smiles just a little bit.

”It feels a lot better than making them.” He says. The other man hums as Chris opens the cabinet and takes out a washcloth. Soaking it with water and mild soap he reaches for Derek's shoulder again. Their eyes meet. The dark haired man smiles.

”It might sting. I know.” He says, obviously amused. Chris smiles back. He cleans Derek's wound, making sure he is as careful as he possibly can be. It's alright if it takes time. He doesn't remember how long he picked those shards of glass off last time. The scars from that isn't even visible on Derek's back now.  Even now Derek doesn't make a sound, but Chris can still tell that the other man is hurting a lot more than he lets on. As soon as the wound is decently cleaned, Chris turns off the tap to the bathtub.

”Take a bath. I'll dress that wound for you later.” He tells Derek. ”I'll turn around while you get in.” He adds when the other man looks surprised up at him.

”Wouldn't it be better if you just left me to it?” Derek asks, but it doesn't sound questioning, not as if this is the outcome he would rather have.

”I'd rather make sure you don't pass out again.” Chris shrugs. ”Besides, I'm not sure you can hold your balance yet.” He says. Though he's still surprised that Derek doesn't protest. Just nods, his face a bit stern as he gets up. Chris can tell that he's a bit wobbly, and he reaches out, supporting him a bit on the way. Chris turns around once Derek is on his legs and seemingly balanced. He hears the rustling of clothing. He hopes that those pants aren't too covered in black mess because otherwise they might have a problem. Earlier he didn't quite consider the fact that they may have entirely different clothing sizes. It's not something you consider about someone who tried to kill you half an hour ago anyway. Even if it was in a rather posessed state.

”Shouldn't you be the one getting in the bath anyway?” Derek asks suddenly. Chris turns back around.

”Hmm?” He asks, regretting in that instance his decision to turn. Because Derek is not in the bath yet, has in fact only stepped into it with one foot. He's supporting himself with a hand on the wall, his head is turned, looking at Chris. Chris himself is too busy wondering how the hell Derek will fit in that tub. Like how it would even be physically possible.

”I feel like you need to clean more than me anyway.” Derek continues. Chris stops thinking about the tub issue. He can't actually stop thinking about Derek's body however, because that is very very present at this moment in time. He studies Derek's face, tries to figure it out.

”Are you trying to get me naked, Derek?” He asks then. And the other man's face breaks into a surprising smile.

”Maybe.” Derek says. ”Depends.”

”On what?” Chris asks. He doesn't dare to smile.

”On if you will get naked or not.” Derek replies. He steps into the tub with his other foot. And Chris attention is yet again drawn to the water level. How it will never work with that amount of body mass. Then he thinks of Derek's skin, of his own fingers digging into it. Teeth and tongue and mouth and ferocious kissing. Derek's ridiculously big and strong hands around Chris's cock. The water level rising and spilling over the edge of the tub. A possibly drenched bathroom floor. Maybe even a ruined floor in the hallway.

He blinks. Derek has raised an eyebrow at him. And in that moment Chris sighs, thinks oh what the hell, and fuck it. Then he locks the door and takes off his pants.

 


End file.
